Follow Me Down

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
I don't have anything...

Submitted: May 19, 2009

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Submitted: May 19, 2009

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So It Starts The words, the growls,
The Poison they feed,
The lies they web,
Oh how the pain starts to swell within.

Take It In

Let it slide,
They're just words,
One ear out the other,
They can't hurt you,
You're too good.
Don't listen to what they say.


The Hurt They're right,
You're ugly,
You're stupid,
You deserve to die.
You'll never make it in life.
You only hate.
Never love,
You've lost the real you,
You're dead inside.

It's In Deep

You're not faithful,
You're a loser,
You're not worth it,
Come ugly,
Death awaits you.
You follow,
You're stupid,
Of course,
You're blind.

It's Time Sit in your corner,
Please,
Get the razor.
No one's here.
No one sees.
If they did,
Who would care.
You're invisible.
Pick it up,
Let your skin,
Meet metal.
Hold,
Pull,
Deep,
There you go.
Blood pours out,
Followed with streams of anxiety,
Pain,
The words,
The doubts,
The devastation.
More Self destruct,
Now,
Before it's too late.
Slowly but surely,
Caving in,
Drink up.
When you're finished,
Have some more.
Alcohol says you're good enough.
Keep going,
Don't stop,
Pass out all your troubles.

Burned

Inhale the toxic,
Feel the burn.
You're not use to it now,
But you will be.
Inflame your insides,
Cancer here we come.
Feel the high,
You're not on cloud nine,
But this will do.
Relieve the pain,
Slowly fades,
Enjoy the moment,
Until everything comes back to haunt you again.

Outcast Thrown into the ocean,
Lost at sea,
Never reach land,
It's too late now.
Cry wolf all you want,
No one will come to look for you.
Suffer Slowly dying,
But no one knows.
It's becoming harder and harder,
To get through the day,
You're finally almost dead,
Here comes relief.


Pitch Black No one told you how to fight the fight,
No one ever told you,
That all people weren't right.
You were never taught,
That all the things you've seen,
Were just half of the worlds darker mean.
Now you slipped away and you're never coming back.
Tell me love,
How am I suppose to live with that?


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